Love Conquers All
by ricelius
Summary: Omnia vincit amor. Love conquers all. But does it? At the final battle, Harry manages to kill Voldemort but is in turn killed by Lucius Malfoy. Can Hermione's love for Harry save him?


**Summary:** Omnia vincit amor. Love conquers all. But does it? At the final battle, Harry manages to kill Voldemort but is in turn killed by Lucius Malfoy. Can Hermione's love for Harry save him?

**A/N:** This is a very short fanfiction over an idea I suddenly had. It's also my first fic, so please review and tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer:** I am not J.K. Rowling. Repeat: I am _not_ J.K. Rowling. If you sue me for trying to be J.K. Rowling, I'll presume you're out of your mind and not take your lawsuit seriously. So you might as well not try in the first place. Since I most definitely am not J.K. Rowling, I didn't create nor do I own the trademark of Harry Potter. I don't think anyone owns the _idea _ of Harry Potter, but since that's out of the scope of a disclaimer I'll save that discussion for sometime else. So, read and enjoy, but don't sue.

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'_Avada Kedavra!_' Harry turned around in disbelief to see Lucius Malfoy behind him, an evil and triumphant grin covering the Death Eater's face. A green beam shot out of his wand and inched towards Harry, who tried to dodge. But it was no good, the beam hit him squarely in the chest, and Harry felt his heart stop. His legs faltered and gave away under him, and the next moment Harry was being sucked, slowly but inevitably, towards the ground, helplessly falling, not able to control his body anymore. Suddenly a wave of relief went through Harry and he felt all the pain he had endured disappear; his scar stopped its irritating itching and the ache in his leg was suddenly gone. It was as though an immense burden had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. Harry felt lighter than air and found himself drifting upwards, like a bird suddenly let out of the cage it had been trapped in since it was born, away from his abused body that landed with a thump on the dusty ground—

'NOOOOOOOOO!' Hermione screamed, her voice resounding throughout the graveyard, mingled with equal amounts of fear and frustration. She quickly stunned Malfoy and flung herself on Harry's body, weeping silently. Looking into the green eyes that were now merely shades of the life they used to be so full of, she desperately clutched his hand and held on to him.

With a jerk Harry stopped in midair. It was as if some invisible bond bound him to his body and prevented his upwards drift, prevented him from escaping from the lifeless corpse on the ground below. Watching from twenty feet, he saw Hermione crying over his dead face, her hand clutching his. The others had now arrived and stood around his body, disbelief written on each of their faces. Neville, shaking slightly, was holding Ginny's hand and Luna had a firm grip on Ron's arm. None of them spoke; oblivious to everything else, they seemed absorbed in comprehending what lay before them.

_What are they doing?_ Harry thought, confused. _Why aren't they happy? With Voldemort finally gone, everyone should be celebrating, not mourning._ Then Harry understood and his soul was filled with irritation by the scene below. He knew it was better this way—Voldemort was dead, after all. With his destiny fulfilled at last, Harry saw no reason to go on living. He had killed Voldemort, as he was meant to do. His friends whom he loved so much were safe now; they would not have to go through the pain he had. Yet they were wasting their time crying over him, wishing him back into his body. Could they not see that there was nothing left for him to do anymore?

Harry wanted to yell at them, to tell them to be happy, tell them to let him go. He did not want to go back to the earthly misery his life had been. His job was done; this day was the realisation of a lifelong wait. Harry fought against the bond, willing all his power to break it so that he could be free. But he could not completely block out the scene below—no matter how hard he tried, he was still bound to his body, still forced to watch the woman that was crouching next to it, holding his hand.

Hermione bent over him and whispered, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. 'Harry, listen, _please_ listen. I know you're there still, I know you can hear me.' There was an edge of desperation in her voice, a trace of an extreme urgency, and Harry could but listen to her, his will to escape suddenly feeble.

'Harry, don't die. I know you think there's nothing left for you here, I know you don't see a reason to go on. Life has not been very kind to you, you were always deprived of the love that you so rightfully should have had. But you are a truly magnificent person, Harry, and I can't believe how much you've been forced to go through.' She squeezed his hand and Harry had the strangest feeling, a feeling of warmth and comfort soaring through the air around him, warming his very soul in a way it had never been warmed before.

'But what you don't realise is that you have friends who love you. You see, even though it's always been you who had to take the lead, you who had to endure all the pain, your friends have always been here to support you. And we always will.

'But there's something more, Harry. Something I didn't realise till a few days ago. I need you, Harry. I can't live without you. If you die, part of me will die as well. We belong together, we're inseparable. Harry … I love you.' And she bent down and kissed him.

As her lips touched his, a current of electricity ran through Harry's body as a supreme power manifested itself from head to foot; now suddenly flowing in all the veins was the power of life yet again. The bond that had prevented Harry from escaping tightened and he felt himself being pulled gently downwards, back into his body. But he did not mind, he did not fight against it, he let it happen, life was not that bad after all—

He found himself in his old body again, looking out through his own eyes. The remains of the suffering were still there, the pain from the Cruciatus curse still in every end of his nerves. But Harry did not feel any pain in his body, he did not care that his leg was broken or his ribs cracked. Harry only cared about the brown eyes that were looking at him, a few inches from his face, so very close… He noticed the face they resided in, the light trails of tears on her otherwise brown cheeks, and he knew that he loved her, that he always had without realising.

A smile spread on her pretty face and she bent down again, careful not to cause any pain, and kissed him once more. As their lips parted and Harry looked at her, he knew that she had been right: she did need him. And what was more, he needed her as well.


End file.
